


the light in the window

by taykash



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21578197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taykash/pseuds/taykash
Summary: Felix is prepared for Sylvain to come to his room after battles in which Sylvain's death wish glows brighter than his Crest.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52





	the light in the window

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-timeskip, no beta. Still trying to shake the rust off these ol' writing fingers.

Sometimes Felix catches Sylvain staring off into space, his eyes unfocused and looking at somewhere far beyond the Garreg Mach walls. 

When Sylvain realizes Felix is looking, he always gives him a saucy wink before turning back to the Professor’s lecture or his dinner or the girl he has an arm around.

Felix can only imagine what Sylvain could be thinking of. They spent most of their lives before the monastery together and their shared memories are countless, but Felix knows there are horrors that Sylvain had to suffer alone.

There are some days in the battlefield when Felix catches Sylvain being reckless, his lance swinging wildly and leaving behind holes in his guard, waiting for a blade or an arrow to slip through and into soft flesh.

On those days, Felix sticks closer to Sylvain, catching the sharp points aimed toward Sylvain with his own sword, saving Sylvain from his own death wish.

Those are invariably the nights Sylvain shows up at Felix’s door, a wine bottle and two glasses in his hands and a sheepish grin on his face.

“I don’t want any,” Felix always says flatly but lets Sylvain in anyway.

“After all the trouble I go to to get my hands on it,” Sylvain laments, settling on Felix’s bed and forgoing the glasses in favor of taking a swig from the bottle.

It’s a comfortable routine that Felix and Sylvain share, and Felix dreads it. On those nights, the smile never reaches Sylvain’s eyes and the humor in his voice is faked. 

“What was it today?” Felix asks, betraying no emotion. “You almost got an arrow to the eye.”

“Is that where it would’ve hit? Huh. That’s pretty gruesome,” Sylvain laughs, and Felix has to restrain himself from punching him. A fistfight wouldn’t help and anyway, the boar would come running.

Felix doesn’t bother responding, just stares at him until Sylvain sighs, rubbing the open bottle between his hands.

“I met a girl last night in town.”

“Of course you did,” Felix scoffs, sitting down at his desk and picking up the dagger he had been polishing when the knock on his door came. 

“Right?” Sylvain laughs but Felix would prefer he didn’t.

“She’s not from around here, I guess. Anyway, it was going well, mood was pretty hot, and then she goes ‘there are two Gautier sons, right? Are you the heir?’” Sylvain keeps chuckling into his wine bottle and Felix wants to smack him for it.

“So you finished and then kicked her out of your bed.” Felix is bored with this conversation. “If that’s enough for you to want to get killed on the battlefield, maybe I should let it happen next time.”

“Nah. I told her I wasn’t, so she put her shirt on and left. Didn’t even give me the courtesy of letting me finish.” Sylvain looks at Felix with a look in his eyes that Felix has seen too many times. It’s pleading and yearning and Felix hates it.

Felix is expecting Sylvain’s kiss before he even hears the creak of the bed, the wine sour on his breath. He allows Sylvain’s fingers to deftly crawl under his shirt, his callused fingertips tracing scars old and new.

Sylvain is always a little rough with Felix when he’s like this, leaving bite marks and fingertip-bruises on Felix’s pale skin. Felix lets it happen, his fingers running through Sylvain’s hair even as Sylvain sucks a spot on his collarbone until it’s black and blue. In a few days, the bruises will turn yellow and Felix will avoid looking at them in the mirror and in the bath.

It wasn’t long after Glenn’s death when Sylvain first started coming to Felix. At first, it was under the guise of Sylvain trying to comfort Felix, who had locked himself up in his room. He had refused to open the door for Dimitri, Ingrid, and Rodrigue, and it was only Sylvain who managed to push his way through.

Sylvain had caressed Felix’s cheek and kissed him softly. No words had passed between them, but there didn’t need to be. Back then, these moments were the only time Felix could be true to his emotions.

Now, they still don’t speak during it, but neither Sylvain nor Felix find any true comfort anymore. 

Afterward, Sylvain presses a kiss to Felix’s temple, holding him close as they lay skin-to-skin in Felix’s bed in silence.

“Thanks,” Sylvain finally says.

“Shut up,” Felix replies, turning around so his back is to Sylvain, who simply pulls him closer anyway.

——

Felix admires the professor but also hates their intense gaze that makes him feel like they can see right through him.

“Is everything all right?” They ask the next day in the training room. Felix has rolled up his sleeves, revealing small, fresh bruises on his forearms, almost as if he’s daring someone to ask even though he’ll never give them an answer.

“Everything’s fine,” Felix responds curtly, not bothering to turn away from his dummy. It’s bad enough they’ve been using their damned tea parties as therapy sessions, they don’t need to extend it to the training room, too.

They tilt their head slightly in that way they do when they don’t believe someone. “Is Sylvain okay?” Their expression and tone of voice makes Felix hit the dummy harder, his hands gripping the pommel of his sword too tightly.

“How should I know? Ask him.” The dummy is being shredded.

The best thing the professor does is leave him alone.

——

Ingrid learns about his and Sylvain’s relationship from a poorly timed visit to Sylvain’s room in Gautier territory one day. Every time Felix has to rescue Sylvain on the battlefield, she spends the rest of the week giving them looks of disapproval that both Felix and Sylvain pretend not to see. 

——

Felix knows the boar prince isn’t aware because they’ve never had to sit through a lecture about morality and properness.

The boar is too busy with his own demons to care about Felix’s and Sylvain’s.

——

When the professor vanishes into a ravine and the boar prince succumbs to his own hatred, Felix is the one who reaches for Sylvain for the first time in years.

Their touches are practiced but desperate, the drums of war beating in their ears along with their own heartbeats. 

They wake up together in Felix’s dormitory bed at the monastery for the last time.

“Felix, I—“ Sylvain starts to say before Felix shoves his arms off and gets out of bed, the pale morning light shining weakly through the window and glimmering on the weapons Felix keeps on the rack in his room.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Whatever Sylvain has to say will only worsen Felix’s already bad mood. 

“I guess you never do.” Sylvain sits up in bed, running his hand through his messy hair. Felix is used to this sight and knows what follows is Sylvain leaving, this time maybe forever.

Felix doesn’t give him the chance.

“Don’t die on the battlefield without me. We have a promise.” Felix is already dressed. 

“You remember that?” Sylvain laughs, a little surprised.

Felix presses his lips together and settles for glaring at Sylvain instead of dignifying that with a response. “I don’t plan on dying in this war.”

“Message received loud and clear,” Sylvain sighs, looking down at his hands. His chest is covered with a constellation of scars from careless fighting and Felix would prefer for him to not earn anymore.

“Good.” With that, the door shuts behind Felix, Sylvain left behind in his bed.


End file.
